


The Top Of the Food Chain

by hpmiddleearth



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Accident, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bilbo as pizza delivery boy, Bofur as baker, Dwalin as butcher, Happy Ending, M/M, Passive agressive Bilbo, Pizza, Plotting Bilbo, The Green Dragon restaurant, The Prancing Pony restaurant, Thorin as pizza delivery boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-07-18 21:17:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7330987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpmiddleearth/pseuds/hpmiddleearth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo Baggins is a pizza delivery boy at The Prancing Pony, competing against the only other Italian restaurant in Bree, The Green Dragon. Then stuff happens, a competition happens, and something happens that leads to other things happening :)<br/>Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.<br/>Fun fact: I first thought of this story when I was Wii-ing (not sure if that's a word) with my sister. We were playing a game where we had to deliver a pizza, and the one who delivered the pizza first, won. As we are both huge fans of The Hobbit, we have made a Bilbo and a Thorin on the Wii and I played as Bilbo, my sister as Thorin. Thus, it was not difficult for us to get the idea of writing a fanfic about this. And now, here we are, my very first chapter has launched. My sister will be making a fanfic of Bilbo and Thorin as delivery boys as well, but I can tell you, even though I haven't read any of it yet, it will be very different from mine and also better :) I'll give you the link once she's posted her first chapter.<br/>Goodbye for now! Oh and enjoy the story ^^</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! This will be my first Bagginshield fanfic I'm going to actually finish heheh oops. Please feel free to comment and also please tell me if there are any language mistakes, for English is not my first language. Thanks and enjoy! I hope you like it ^^

Whistling, Bilbo Baggins entered The Prancing Pony and greeted his boss, Bombur, who, as always, was baking pizzas with a happy expression on his face in front of the huge stone oven in the corner of the restaurant. There were almost no people; it was only 4 AM, a time where people usually don't find themselves craving Italian food. “Hey Bilbo!” Bombur exclaimed enthousiastically. “You're early today! There are no orders just yet, I'm afraid, but I do have something for you to busy yourself with. I've ordered a few advertising posters which arrived today, could you hang them up around town?”

“Sure. Where are they?”

“Follow me, I'll show them to you. They've become better than expected! Look!” Bombur had walked into the store and took a poster from the pile, holding it up for Bilbo. He looked at it.

On the poster he saw the ancient Greek statue _the discus thrower_ , but it had Bilbo's face on it and instead of a discus, he held a pizza in his hand. On the pedestal he could read the words: _The Prancing Pony – fastest delivery guaranteed._ Bilbo chuckled. “I'll take that as a compliment. It's a nice ad, Bombur.”

“That's what I thought! Off you go, now. I've got work to do!”

And at that, Bilbo took the pile of posters, stepped on his moped and drove around Bree, getting done as much work as possible before the orders streamed in.

 

Over the week he managed to give all of the ads a place around Bree. He was really quite proud; it didn't matter where you went, you would almost definitely see one of them. He was quite sure that it would make the small restaurant a bit more popular. Content with his work, Bilbo drove the last of his rounds of that week, and when he had delivered the last pizza at a house called Rohan, he went home. He was glad to finally be able to lay to rest after that busy week. Hence, he picked up a good book and read until late in the night, and then oblivion pulled him into the embrace of sleep. He was woken around noon by a warm beam of sunlight streaming into his eyes. Squinting against the light, Bilbo got up and decided to make a voluminous brunch.

Two hours later, he strolled into town. It was Monday – Bilbo's weekend – and therefore the streets were rather empty. Bilbo didn't mind; he liked having only himself as company and hated the hustle and bustle of crowded places.

He went to the bakery. On the frontage was a text, spelled in colourful letters: _Bofur's bakery._ Bilbo went inside and rang the small bell on the counter. Quickly after that, a grinning face appeared in front of him. “Bilbo! Why, I haven't seen you all week! Been busy?”

“Hello, Bofur”, Bilbo greeted. “I have indeed. I had to hang up a big pile of these advertising posters, and the usual work on top of that. Like I'm not busy enough with that already.” He rolled his eyes, but Bofur only grinned wider. “Oh yeah, I've seen 'em. Nice touch, with your head an' all. You only wished you actually _had_ such a body, eh?” Bofur winked at that and laughed at his joke. Bilbo scoffed. “My body is perfectly fine, thank you very much. Now give me my bread!” Bofur chuckled and went through a door at the back.

A minute later, he returned, a few breads sticking out from under his arms. “Your usual order has arrived, sir. So, how are you holdin' up besides work?”

“Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine,” Bilbo assured Bofur. “How about you? _Oh!_ ” He suddenly remembered something Bofur had said about a week ago. “Did you ever see that handsome butcher again? What was his name?”

It was funny to see the baker become so red in such a short time. He was lucky that there were no customers besides Bilbo.

“His name's Dwalin. And yes, I did in fact see him again when I came to get my order. I walked in and he was chopping some meat, _wearing only a vest!_ Well, he was wearing pants of course, but Bilbo! Those arms! They were all muscles, and, and hair. He has a lot of hair! So then I wondered- well, doesn't matter anyway, so I walked- oh, will you _please stop smirking like that_ , you little bastard!” Bilbo laughed.

“Bofur, you really are _smitten_! Like a teenage girl obsessing over her favourite actor!” He laughed even harder at the scowl on Bofur's face.

“It's not funny!” he complained. “The bastard should be forbidden in a normal civilization, he simply is too sexy for his own good. And other people's good. Though I'm afraid I'll have to go back there, I'm in a desperate need of spare ribs!”

“Bofur, you don't even like sp-”

“I do now, because then I have a good reason to go and see tha-”

Bilbo would never know what he had wanted to compare Dwalin to (probably for the best), because he fell silent, his eyes locked on a spot behind Bilbo. Quickly he turned around, wanting to know what had abashed Bofur like that, and then he saw it. Or rather, he saw _him._ A tall man entered the bakery. He was extremely broad, but not in a fat way, and he had a huge black beard. Atop his head he was bald, but there were tattoos visible on his bare scalp. _Well,_ Bilbo thought. _Speak of the Devil._ He did understand what Bofur saw in the man, and the only thing that restrained himself from being knocked off his feet was his difference of taste.

“Hello,” Bilbo greeted, putting up a charming smile.

“Good afternoon,” responded Dwalin. “And to you, mister...” he squinted to read the name tag on Bofur's shirt. “mister Bofur,” he finished.

Bilbo chuckled inaudibly when he saw Bofur turn red again. He then picked up his bread and got out quickly, ignoring the desperate look Bofur shot him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was chapter one already! Let me know what you liked or what you think I can do better ^^ it would be much appreciated! take care xxx see you at the next chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game is on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thank you all for your kudos! In one day I already have more than my previous fic got in a few months, so that really encouraged me to go on :) Thank you for that! For now, please enjoy the next chapter ^^

 Tuesday morning began with an early alarm – Bilbo worked at a library in the morning and afternoon, for there would barely be pizza orders and he needed to have something to do. It would also not be problem to go away for a little while if an order came in at an unexpected time. So Bilbo got up, dressed, and headed for the library. He passed one of the posters on his way, but saw with regret that another poster had been pasted over it.

It was from the big rival of The Prancing Pony, the only other Italian restaurant in Bree. It was called The Green Dragon, and, in Bombur's opinion, it was ran by arrogant jerks. He had tried to cooperate with them a few times in the past, but they simply refused to negotiate anything that would be a profit for The Prancing Pony, even if it meant profit for themselves. Bilbo had never met anyone from The Green Dragon, but he sometimes saw a large man with long black hair drive around Bree on one of their mopeds. The poster showed a slice of pizza with eyes and arms, and it was running on its thin legs. There was text around it: _The Green Dragon – faster than fast._ The text was a poisonous shade of green and written in Comic Sans MS.

A bit disappointed, Bilbo proceeded to the library, but he should have expected this to happen, of course. The concurrent was never far behind. And this wasn't the only poster around town, there would still be plenty of publicity.

But it wasn't the only poster of the rival, either, Bilbo saw. On his way, he crossed four more of his posters, and all of them had disappeared behind the bigger posters of The Green Dragon. _“Great.”_ Bilbo thought. _“_ Great. _All of my work was in vain! I spent five hours gluing those things up every empty space in Bree! That damn Dragon could have at least glued their own crap_ next to it. _But on top of it! Unmannered bastards! Besides, everybody who lives in Bree knows that_ I _am the fastest delivery boy!”_ Still silently grumbling, he began the long day in the library.

 

The first order came early, and Bilbo was glad to get out of the dusty library. He drove to The Prancing Pony and got to work. He didn't have time to talk to Bombur, for more orders had streamed in while he was on his way. So he swiftly delivered the pizza's all around town. _“I will remind you all who is actually the fastest here,”_ he thought.

After the evening had turned to night, and the pizza's had all arrived at their destinations, Bilbo went back to the restaurant. He hadn't crossed a single poster that wasn't covered by one of The Green Dragon. With a sour face he entered The Prancing Pony and finally lay his feet to rest.

Bombur approached him. He looked tired. “Hello Bilbo. Busy day, wasn't it?” He said.

“Yes, it certainly was. Have you seen what The Green Dragon has done to all our ads?” Bombur's face turned angry at that. “Aye, I have. Filthy bastards. A slice of pizza _on legs_? I mean, are they serious? And _Comic Sans MS_? That's really, really cheap. And _you_ have done all the work for nothing! You know, if you'd like to get back at them, I still have a spare pile in the storeroom. You could do to them what they did to you.”

“Hmm, I have to admit that that would for sure give me a nice feeling. But it would also mean that I'd lower myself to their level. No, that's not how I am. Though I suppose I could hang them up again, but _next_ to the posters of The Green Dragon. Then everybody can see that our posters are _way_ better than theirs, and we'll steal their customers!” the last he said with a smile, and he felt better now he had a plan.

So that's why he spent the next day driving around Bree once more, trying to remember all of the spots where he had hung up an ad. With a smirk, he saw that one of the posters was still uncovered by The Green Dragon, in a more deserted part of the town. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless and it made Bilbo feel a little more optimistic.

 

A few days passed without much interesting happening, but on Thursday Bilbo set off to the library again and found that all his ads were covered by the rival's once more. Two irritatingly happy slices of pizza's on legs were smiling down at him, as if they were mocking him that he had lost the game. _“Fine,”_ Bilbo spat out in his thoughts. _“Fine. If you want to play it that way, you monstrous bastard, I'll play along. It is on. Oh, it is_ so _on! Bilbo, you better draw out some battle plans!”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for today :) Let me know what you thought of it! I love you all xxx see you at the next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Battle plans are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a tad bit short, but the next one will bring some action, I swear! Thanks again for the kudos and I even got a comment, yay! love you guys, enjoy for now ^^

Despite the warm weather, Bilbo put some more logs in the fireplace. For some reason he could think better when he was hot. He went to sit at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in front of him, and took a pencil and some paper out of a drawer in the table. Then, he started writing his battle plan. He wrote down a big 1 and drew a circle around it. Behind it, he wrote: _Put ads of Prancing Pony over ads of Green Dragon. → If it doesn't work, proceed to step two._

  1. _Buy a permanent black marker and write bullshit on their posters. A catching sentence that makes clear how shitty they are should work. → If it doesn't work, proceed to step three._

  2. _Go to The Green Dragon (preferably very early in the morning, so I won't be noticed) and paste their walls full of Prancing Posters (hey, that pun might actually be a good one). → If it doesn't work, proceed to step four._

  3. _By now, you have most probably unleashed a true pizza war. Which calls for drastic measures, of course. Discounts on every pizza order. Money back if it isn't delivered within twenty minutes or if The Green Dragon was faster. That should be manageable. → If it doesn't work, proceed to step five._

  4. _Buy a paint pistol and cover all of their ads by paint. I'd like to do the same to their restaurant walls and windows, but that might just be illegal. → If it doesn't work, proceed to step six._

  5. _I think I'm out of ideas for now. Repeat. Start with step one again. They'll have to admit defeat at some point._




 Contently, he looked over his work. It was nothing special, really, but it was always a nice feeling to have a plan at hand.

 

He immediately put his words into deeds on Friday. He went past every poster again, and pasted an ad of his own over one of the ugly pizza's, so that there was only one ugly pizza left, next to his own (perfectly respectable, thank you very much) poster. Step one, however, didn't quite seem to work, as he had already expected. So he proceeded to step two and bought a black permanent marker.

After making sure the ads from The Prancing Pony were visible once more, he pulled out his marker and defiled the ads of The Green Dragon: _“The Prancing Pony will be more than willing to forgive you for your mistake.” “Green will be the colour of you face if you eat these pizza's!” “Faster than fast – but not faster than the fastest! The Prancing Pony will be glad to help you out.”_

And so on, and so forth. He even went so far as to draw a dick on one of them. He was being childish anyway, so it didn't matter anymore. His mother would probably have smacked him over the head with a frying pan if she ever would've found out. Half smiling at that thought (thinking about his mother always brought a smile on his face), Bilbo returned home to grab some lunch.

 

On his way back to The Prancing Pony, he ran into Bofur. “Bofur!” Bilbo exclaimed happily. “How are you doing? Ooh, how did your little meeting with Dwalin go?” he added, a sly smile creeping onto his face. “Hey Bilbo!” Bofur answered. “Oh shut it, you. He just wanted to buy some cupcakes. Really, it was nothing special. It's not like he's into me or anything.”

“Oh, come now Bofur! I mean, who _couldn't_ be attracted by your handsome looks?” they laughed at that. “Anyway,” Bofur said. “I need to get going, I have to pick up some err... things. Meat. Beef.” Bilbo raised a playful eyebrow at that. “Oh, go fuck yourself, Bilbo Baggins,” Bofur said, but he was grinning and Bilbo laughed, glad that Bofur was still as tactful as always. “Always a pleasure talking to you,” he joked, and with that they parted.

 

After a few days, Bilbo decided it was time to start step three. The ad-war had not stopped, and the ads of the Prancing Pony had been suffering black marker comments as well, one even worse than the other. (It was one advantage that their posters couldn't be deviled by having dicks drawn on them, for the discus thrower already had one. That didn't stop them from commenting on it, though.)

So Bilbo rose early – _very_ early; 03:16 AM, to be exact. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he got up and made the whole wall of the restaurant disappear behind his posters. Luck was with him, for nobody had noticed him and he was done quite early, so he could still get some sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to upload the next chapter in de following days, but I've quite a busy week coming up. The week after that, I will be completely free though, for then my holiday begins ^^ thanks for the support! xxx


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's come to a truce. Also, Bilbo shipping Bofur and Dwalin :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I found some spare time today, so I've been able to complete the fourth chapter :) The next chapters won't be on as soon as the first few, because I haven't written anything past the fourth chapter yet... But I promise it won't be very long! Two weeks max. Thank you for the kudos and comments! Enjoy ^^

The second alarm that day made Bilbo wake up with a sharp headache, as always when he had gone to bed too late. He cursed himself and his stupid ideas, and wondered if maybe he had gone too far. Was what he had done even legal? Would Bombur have to pay for _his_ mistake?

Maybe he was reading too much in it. Maybe it was just a prank, nothing more. But in his gut he knew one thing: that it would never ever stop the Green Dragon from rivaling him and his posters.

And it appeared he was right. When he reached the Prancing Pony and walked through the door, Bombur almost launched himself at Bilbo. “Bilbo! _What_ in the name of the great flying spaghetti monster, may his pepperoni never rot, have you _done_? I went to work today, just like all other days, and found _this_ taped on the door! Explanation, please!” He held out a crumpled piece of paper, as if he had squeezed it into a ball in anger and later smoothed it out. Bilbo took it, opened it and read the following:

 

_Dear mister Bombur,_

_If you think you're better than us and are so keen on destroying our (not to mention your own, but that is of no concern to us) reputation like this, we have a proposition for you, so that this can be solved in a fair way, which we prefer above scandalizing each other's names. Our proposition is as follows:_

_Next month, a competition between us will be organized by you. We will compete, obviously, for the fastest delivery. If you choose not to cooperate, you will stop harming our reputation. If you lose, you will stop harming our reputation. If you win, you will stop harming our reputation._

_This is non-negotiable._

_Yours sincerely,_

_The Green Dragon_

 

“They want _us_ to stop harming _their_ reputation? It was _them_ who started it in the first place!” Bilbo said angrily.

“And what exactly is _it_?” Bombur asked. Bilbo opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Bombur interrupted him. “No, wait. I don't even want to know what you do in your spare time. What I _do_ want to know, though, Bilbo, is _what is the meaning of this_? A competition? Just what have you been cooking up lately?”

“Well, ah... you see...” Bilbo starts, but then a grin spread out on his face. “A delivery boy never reveals his secrets, boss.” Bombur gave him an exasperated look.

Bilbo took another good look at the note, and then realized something.

“Bombur, this might actually be a good thing! If we organize this competition, this match, I will get to show everybody that I am actually the fastest delivery boy there is! I must be, I know every nook and cranny and creepy alley around Bree. I'm sure of it, if we just make a bunch of leaflets and put them in every mailbox around town, then I'm convinced there will be enough people to make a nice celebration out of it, and have you ever seen anybody in Bree turn down a reason to party? We could call Bofur for cake, and Dwalin for other snacks, and, _ooh they can work together and then realize how much they love each other and_ -” “Bilbo!” Bombur cut him off.

“Sorry, I'm rambling again. But Bombur, you really need to consider this, it _is_ a good thing! Please Bombur, you know too that something good _can_ come out of something bad!” Bombur heaved a sigh.

“I don't know, Bilbo. I don't want to waste any money, and there is still a chance of you losing... I'll think about it. Go to work now. And _don't_ bother The Green Dragon again!”

 

A few minutes later, Bilbo stormed into Bofur's bakery. “Bofur! Bofur!” he yelled.

“Ho now, easy lad,” Bofur responded. “you're scaring my customers. What's the matter?”

“I have great news! The Green Dragon wants to hold a competition to see who has the fastest delivery boy! Bombur hasn't agreed to it yet, but I'm sure he'll see how awesome, not to mention how much fun it's going to be.”

“A competition? That sounds like fun. Are you sure you can beat them?”

“Bofur, I was born for this,” Bilbo said in mock-seriousness. “Though that isn't the greatest news for you yet, my friend. We're going to invite the whole town, so we really need some sponsors. What do you say?” Bofur thought for a few moments. “I'd damn well love that! Count me in!”

“Yes! And how about I find you a partner sponsor? What is a party without a good barbecue?” Bilbo asked, waggling his eyebrows. Bofur grinned viciously. “Seems like today is my lucky day! Make sure he doesn't say no, or you'll get a taste of my fists!” Bilbo laughed. “We wouldn't want that now, would we? Your fists don't taste nearly as good as those excellent cinnamon pies of yours.” Bilbo smiled broadly. “Well, I'll be off then! See you soon!”

 

When he left the bakery, Bilbo immediately headed to the butcher.

“Good morning, mister Dwalin,” Bilbo said when he entered the shop.

“Aye, that it is. What would it be for you, mister... Baggins, was it?”

“Indeed. And I didn't come in to buy anything, I'm afraid. I'm here to ask if you'd like to sponsor the Prancing Pony in a competition, together with the baker. I believe you know him already.”

Dwalin raised his eyebrows. “A competition? What kind?” Bilbo explained everything, and in the end, Dwalin agreed and after Bilbo had delivered all pizza's, he went back to The Prancing Pony to see if Bombur had already made his decision. It appeared he had, like Bilbo had predicted, agreed with him. “But I won't do it all alone! You are the one that got us into this mess, so you will be the one to get us out of it.” After that, he insisted on Bilbo staying at the Prancing Pony to help him organize the whole thing.

And that's how Bilbo ended up coming home at two AM.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed! I don't have much more to say, so goodbye for now :( take care! xxx


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The match begins... and ends rather abruptly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this chapter lasting so long! I've had a wild week and absolutely no inspiration... My humblest apologies, everyone.

Bilbo Baggins did **not** like Thorin Oakenshield. That morning, he had gotten up, excited about the day ahead. He had been in an excellent mood, as well. That had now changed, for he had met mr. Oakenshield. He had been talking to Bofur and Dwalin, who ran one of the many stands on the town square together (and looked very cute doing so, in Bilbo's humble opinion), when the man had approached him, shaken his hand (Bilbo suspected he had deliberately dislocated his ring finger) and curtly revealed his name, while glaring daggers at Bilbo the whole time.

On the whole, one could say that the man had quite intimidated poor mister Baggins. But the latter, more courageous than one would expect from the outside, didn't let anything show and didn't let himself be discouraged. Needless to say, he had met the man's glare with one of his friendly smiles and a “Bilbo Baggins, pleasure to meet you.” (back then, he had no idea just how true that sentence was.)

If possible, the man's glare became even darker, as if he was allergic to friendliness, and without so much as a 'by your leave', he marched off.

Dumbfounded, Bofur watched his back. “Well, that could have gone worse.” Dwalin merely raised his eyebrow at him, causing the baker's face to go about as red as the sauce in his pizza buns (Bilbo knew that Bofur found the one-eyebrow-raise quite sexy). Bilbo snickered at them and left the two to their awkwardness.

 

\--

 

“... Now, if the competitors will stand on either side of the road, then the match may begin,” Bombur said, a microphone in hand. “Both of you have your pizzas?” They nodded. “Okay. Now then, the address you'll have to deliver them to is Isengard Ally number four, next to church Orthanc. On your marks! Three... Two... One...” then, the gunshot sounded and both Bilbo and Thorin sped away immediately.

The first few seconds, the dark figure of mister Oakenshield lay ahead, an arrogant smirk on his face, but guided by the enthousiastic screams of the gathered crowd at both sides of the road, Bilbo began to regain his proximity to the man. His heart pumped loudly in his ears, the adrenaline making his hands sweaty and shaky, but Bilbo kept focused, moving through the curves in the road as if he were one with the vehicle. Then, he approached a large curve and he had the fortune of driving at the right side of the road and he surpassed the bigger man, who looked thunderous at that. He steered right, to make the curve as short as possible, coming very close to Bilbo, even pushing against his elbow a bit, making his steer tilt to the right and his front wheel nearly touching the curb. Bilbo, alarmed, pushed back to the left and sped up even more. He was now completely in front of mr. Oakenshield, his eyes locked in a tunnel vision. Thus, he did not see how the large man drove next to him once more, again trying to shove him with his elbow. He also didn't see how close the curb was to his wheel. Or the tree standing on the pavement.

It all went in slow motion. He became aware of something pushing against his elbow, making his steer tilt again. Then, he felt his wheel get stuck against the curb and his moped tilt horizontal to the ground. It seemed like every second lasted three. _“I'm lucky I put on that protective motorcycle suit, after all,”_ he thought before his body hit the ground, rolled over a few times, and slammed into the tree at high speed.

 

–-

 

A few hours later, Bilbo awoke to the sound of soft beeps. Or at least, it felt like a few hours. Like he had had a good night's sleep, except for the fact that it was still dark and he was utterly exhausted. As a result, he drifted away again.

The second time he woke, he already noticed it was light through his closed eyelids, for the backside of them gave off a pleasant shade of red. There were less beeps this time, but he was aware of a dull pain about everywhere in his body. Not wanting to open his eyes, he drifted away again a few minutes later.

The third time he woke, it was to a high-pitched voice. It took Bilbo a few seconds to figure out that it was a young child. “Goodbye, uncle Thorin! Will you call mommy when mister Boggins wakes up? I want to know when he gets better!”

“I will, Kíli,” a deeper voice answered. “Good luck with your geography test tomorrow.”

“Thank you, uncle Thorin!” After that, he heard light footsteps fade away. “ _Wait a second...”_ Bilbo thought. “ _Where am I, actually? Wait, I can figure this out... There are beeps... and there is a far away pain... and I can barely feel my body... and I'm lying on something soft... … Of course! I must be in a hospital.”_ He then slowly opened his eyes, blinking at the bright light that streamed past his lids, and saw that, indeed, he lay in a hospital.

“You're awake,” a deep voice said to him. Bilbo tilted his head to the left. There was no one there. Bilbo frowned. He could've sworn he just heard...

“Over here, mister Baggins.” Ah, the voice came from his right side. Turning his head the other way, dark hair, deep blue eyes above a sharp nose and a neatly trimmed beard swam into his vision. Bilbo blinked, unsure if that handsome stranger was really that handsome. He also had the strangest feeling that he knew the man somehow. He studied him a bit more thoroughly, now noting he had bags under his eyes, which were a bit red in the corners, as if he had barely slept the last few days. He also looked quite nervous.

“Hello,” Bilbo greeted.

“Good afternoon,” the man responded. An awkward silence followed. “Is it?” Bilbo questioned. The man grinned a bit, lighting up his eyes for a short time. Bilbo decided he liked the man.

“I'd like to tell you that... I'm very sorry for everything that happened, it was entirely my fault. I... behaved like a total jerk, I'll give you that. And if-” he was cut short by a confused Bilbo. “Wait! I know you, what, five seconds now and you're already making up for something? I don't even know your name! Am I missing something here?” The stranger's eyes widened. “You... don't remember what happened?”

“Remember what?” Bilbo asked, still a bit slow. He was sure he was missing something here...

“What about how you ended up here?”

“Ooh, of course, that's what's missing. No clue at all,” he said. “Last thing I remember is... snickering. I was snickering. Why was I snickering?” A silence fell again as Bilbo tried to recollect his memory, but it was less awkward now. “Something about pizza buns? _Ooooh!_ Bofur and Dwalin were doing their oblivious lovey-dovey stuff, that's why I was snickering. And they were in a stand... the match! Of course! Wait, did I do something at the match that got me in hospital?”

The man heaved a sigh. “No, it was my fault entirely. Do you remember me?”

“I'm afraid not, no.” Strange. Seeing the man, he'd hardly be able to forget him.

“I was your opponent at the race. The Green Dragon has been family heirloom for generations now, and I, determined to uphold its name, got desperate as soon as you started to overtake me. I... pushed you and you tripped over the curb and smashed straight into a tree.”

“How-” “Mister Baggins! You're awake!” A nurse entered the room at that moment.

“That I am,” said mister Baggins said with a smile.

“Could you look at my finger?” The nurse started testing his eyes and ears. “That looks just fine. Now, I am going to give you a few small pricks, please tell me whether you feel it or not.” The nurse started at his shoulders and moved downwards from there.

“Ouch,” Bilbo said when he felt the needle enter his skin. “Yes, I feel it. I feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it.”

“You don't feel this one?” the nurse asked the seventh time she pricked the needle in him.

“Oh, was that another one? I'm afraid not, no. Is that bad?”

“No, it's probably from the painkillers. There is a chance on paraplegia though, due to several broken fragments in your spine, but it's possible that they didn't interfere with your nerve system. We'll have to lessen the amount of painkillers and see if any feeling returns before we can establish that, though.”

“Okay. Thank you for the information,” Bilbo said, disconcerted by the bad news.

“There are several other injuries as well. Would you like me to share them with you?”

“Is it anything bad?” Bilbo asked, cautious.

“Apart from the broken fragments in your spine and a few other broken bones, no. Just lots of cuts and bruises, and there was one dislocated ring finger, but that has been fixed. You were very lucky, it could have been much worse.”

“Okay. I don't have to know all the details, as long as it'll heal.”

The nurse left Bilbo alone with the man again. He then realized something. “Wait, I still don't know your name.”

“Oh, you're right about that,” the man answered, a bit surprised. “Thorin Oakenshield. Pleasure to meet you,” he added with a smirk that made Bilbo's heart skip a beat. He just hoped it wouldn't be visible on the monitor for mister Oakenshield to see.

“So, how long have I been asleep?” Bilbo asked, desperate for a conversation to help keep his mind off things.

“About a week,” mister Oakenshield responded. “The match was on Saturday, so that is Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and it is now Thursday. So that's a total of five days.”

“ _Five days?_ It feels like a matter of hours to me... but then again, my head isn't that reliable at this moment,” Bilbo added with a smile. “So how long have you been here?”

“Five days.”

“ _You've been here all the time?_ ” Bilbo asked, incredulously.

“I wanted to make sure you were... alright. I would never be able to forgive myself if...” he didn't finish his sentence, but it was all too clear what he meant.

“Mister Oakenshield, you should really go home! You look like you haven't been sleeping for weeks!”

“I have... I would just rather make sure you're okay,” Thorin said, but Bilbo wasn't going to change his mind. “Really, you should go home. I'll be fine. I'm awake, you see? Awake, breathing, and talking. And it's not like I'm going to die the second you step out of the door,” he added jokingly.

After thinking for a while, mister Oakenshield finally answered: “Fine. But is it okay if I return tomorrow? I'd like to... know how you're doing.”

“If that's the case, you could've asked me for my phone number straight away. Just kidding!” he quickly added when he saw the man become really red really fast. “I'd like to see you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Good.” He stood up to leave, but he stopped in front of the door. “Mister Baggins?”

“Oh, please call me Bilbo. My father was mister Baggins.”

“Bilbo?”

“Yes, mister Oakenshield?”

Said mister Oakenshield smiled. “And _you_ can call me Thorin.”

Bilbo smiled as well. “Okay.”

A silence fell.

“Bilbo?”

“Yes, Thorin?” Bilbo chuckled.

“Can I get you some coffee or anything?”

“You can ask me on a date just as well, you know.” Thorin turned red once more. “I'm kidding again!” Bilbo laughed. “I'm sorry, I have a terrible sense of humour... but some tea would be to _die_ for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everybody for the kudos and comments! It makes my day just that bit brighter :) I love you guys ^^ (oh, sorry by the way for that last cruel joke. poor Thorin) And, unlike Bilbo, take care! xxx  
> 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comes with extra drama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys, I know it has been a really long time since I wrote a chapter, and I'm very sorry. I have just been really stressed and busy because I'm in the final year of school, and because of all the stress and things in between I haven't been inspired at all, I couldn't get anything out of my head and on the screen. Again, I'm sorry and I'll try to upload more frequently. For now, enjoy this chapter, I have put some progress in it for you :)

 The few weeks Bilbo spent in the hospital could only be described as _fun_. He had lots of company, got a whole mountain of letters from faraway friends and family, and was actually never bored. He got to know Thorin a lot better, who came to visit him every day, and found out that it was very easy to be around him, just like Bofur, only Thorin was a bit more serious than the latter.

And then the day came that Bilbo was discharged. He was packing the few things he had in the drawers next to his bed, when Thorin came in. “Hey Bilbo. Are you almost ready?” he asked. “Yes, I just have to stuff these books in here somewhere...” after a few seconds of hitting the insides of the bag to make place, Bilbo pushed the books inside and closed the zipper. “Done! Let's go! I'm dying to feel some fresh air on my face again.”

They took off, signed out, and got into Thorin's car. It was not a big, beautiful car, but it was cosy and hey, what would you expect from a pizza delivery boy? Bilbo was already glad that Thorin hadn't decided to pick him up on his moped. That could never have ended well.

During the ride, Bilbo chattered away happily, looking forward to be back in his cosy home by the fireplace, curled up under a blanket with a good book and a steaming cup of tea. Thorin just listened in silence, looking a bit downcast. Bilbo noticed. “Is something the matter? You look a bit sad. Was my gardenia joke that bad?”

A tiny smile appeared on Thorin's face, quickly to disappear. “No, your joke was fine, as far as your humour goes. It's just... I'll really miss hanging out with you.” The latter he said so soft, that Bilbo had to do his best to hear it.

“Oh, Thorin,” he responded, a bit surprised. “you don't have to stop seeing me just because I'm out of the hospital! You can still come over, it's not like I'm breaking all the ties with you now that I'm whole and hale again. Besides, a little bit of help around would really be nice. I still have difficulties undressing,” he said, closing off with a wink. That caused Thorin to have a coughing fit and become very very red in the face, which Bilbo laughed at so hard that the tears sprang in his eyes. When he could get enough breath to speak again, he said: “Thorin, you should really know by now that half of what I say is utter bullocks.” Thorin just glared at him. The blush hadn't left his cheeks, though.

 --

The first thing Bilbo did when they got home, was make tea. He hadn't even taken off his coat yet. That was the second thing he did. Thorin followed him back to the kitchen and stood in the doorway, a bit awkward. Okay, more than a bit. “Please, make yourself at home!” Bilbo said. Thorin sat down at the table and the awkwardness now reduced to a bit. “So, are you glad to be home again?” he asked.

“I sure am. It's really nice to be back. Although I'll really know I'm home when that damned water finally starts boiling,” Bilbo said with a glare at the kettle. When it did, Bilbo jumped up with an 'ah, at long last' and got to bobbing the tea bag up and down in the pot to speed the process up. He really just wanted his tea. And tea he got, a minute later, just how it always had been, exept now it may have been a bit lighter than usual. Together, they sipped from their steaming mugs. “So when will you start working again?” Thorin asked.

“If it's up to me, as soon as possible. I'll call Bombur later today and ask about it. Sitting at home alone might be peaceful and quiet, but it quickly gets too much. And I have more than had my share of peacefullness and tranquility.”

“I understand. If I were you, I'd've gone crazy by now.”

“Hah. I'm not very different from before, but then again, my mind was never completely sound to begin with.”

Thorin smiled, a small tweak of the corners of his mouth, and to Bilbo his little smial suddenly seemed brighter than usual. What was going on with him? Must be the pain killers...

“Something wrong?” Thorin asked, and too late Bilbo realized he had been staring at him. “Nah, just tired.” He lied. In fact, he wasn't tired at all. He felt more awake than he had in a long time, thanks to the little trip home and the warming tea. And the company wasn't bad, either. Not bad at all. _“Okay, seriously Bilbo, what is wrong with you?”_ he told himself.

“Should I leave you alone, then?” Thorin asked.

“No, it's okay. I won't be able to sleep anytime soon, anyway.”

They were silent for a while. It was a bit awkward, so Bilbo desperately thought of a topic. Unfortenately, he couldn't do better than “What do you think of cloning?” It was a bit sad, really.

Thorin, however, didn't look weirded out. A small wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows as he thought how to put his thoughts into words. “Many people think it's unnatural, but if that was ever a valid argument, everyone should immediately abandon their houses and live in the forests. Others are against it because they think it's dangerous or something, but that's bullshit. It's not like we're going to create monsters, that only happens in movies. We're just making better organisms. I think it's a good thing.”

“I agree with you on this one,” Bilbo nodded. “I think many people that are against it just don't know enough of it.”

And so they talked and talked, until one of them glanced at the clock and noticed it was past two o'clock. And so it came to be that Thorin spent the night at Bilbo's. In the guest room, of course. No need to make it any weirder than it was.

 --

Despite the late bedtime, Bilbo woke early. Even Thorin hadn't woken up yet, and Bilbo knew he always woke early. He couldn't remember how he knew that, though. It was one of those things you just know about your friends. He headed for the kitchen, put the kettle on the fire and started scrambling some eggs. He always was quite proud of that particular quality of his; he made them fluffy, but not sticky. Gold, but not brown. Exactly the way they are supposed to be.

When he had finished the eggs, he baked some bacon. That scent was, apparently, the key to getting Thorin out of his bed, because a minute later he walked in the kitchen, sniffing his nose. “Something smells delicious here,” he said. Bilbo's stomach growled in response. They shared a laugh and Thorin got to laying the table.

As expected, Thorin was very impressed by Bilbo's scrambled eggs. “Wow. If you plan on making this every morning, I'm afraid I won't be able to leave here anymore.” Bilbo laughed. “Then you'll make an easy captive,” he said with a wink. He chuckled at the slight blush that spread across Thorin's cheeks. The Thorin in question decided to ignore that fact.

 --

Eventually, the time came that Thorin had to leave. Bilbo reminded himself that he had a life beside Bilbo, of course. He wasn't alone for long, though. About half an hour in his pondering, Bilbo heard someone knock on his door. He opened it and saw Bofur on the other side. Not surprised and with a smile, Bilbo let him in. “How've you been, my dear friend?” he asked.

“I have been exeptionally well, my much appreciated acquaintance,” Bofur answered with a broad smile. Bilbo laughed and let him in. “Why the smirk? Have you been up to your usual mischief again?”

“Oh, Bilbo, you don't want to know the details. It'll leave you traumatized for years to come. Do I smell bacon?”

“You do, but you are, unfortunately, too late. I'm afraid Thorin ate the whole load this morning.”

“Thorin spent the night here? I can't say I'm surprised, but I had not expected it this soon!”

Bilbo suddenly got very red in the face. “It wasn't like that, Bofur. I'm not you! It was totally... platonic, in lack for a better word. He slept in the guest room and there was no touches involved whatsoever.” Why did that make Bilbo a bit disappointed? It's not like he wanted _that_ with Thorin... did he? Bofur just quirked an eyebrow. “Come on, Bilbo. I have only seen you two together a couple times, but nobody can _not_ see the longing looks between you two!”

“ _Longing looks_? It's not at all like that! You're overly exaggerating again, as always.”

“You're not laughing.”

“Beg pardon?”

“You're not laughing. If I had been wrong, you would've been laughing at the mere thought of it. Don't be ridiculous Bilbo, just admit it! You're in love with the lad!”

“Wh- I'm not- no!”

Bofur just kept staring at him, eyebrows raised.

“Am I in love?” Bilbo asked, looking a bit forlorn.

“Bilbo, lad, the way I see your face light up when you look at him... I'd bet my life on it.”

Bilbo closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. “Well,” he said, “I guess there's no denying it any longer, than. I guess... I'll just have to try to get over him.”

“What?” Bofur asked, flabbergasted. “Why? Come on, Bilbo, you've been so lonely all alone in this big house. Why would you just throw a chance on happiness away?”

“Bofur, have you ever looked at me? I'm not boyfriend material. I'm not... good looking, or handsome, or sexy, or whatever one ever looks for in a love interest. I'm just not that kind of person. And certainly not for Thorin. I mean, have you seen the man? He's way out of my league!”

“Well, I don't believe in leagues. And I don't believe a word you just said. You are a fluffy little ball of cuteness, and I know Thorin sees you like that as well, because he has the same look in his eyes as you do when he looks at you. You must be very dense not to notice _that_. Come on, Bilbo, you have to at least try. Giving up is not your style. You need this!”

Bilbo sighed again. “What have I gotten myself into?” he asked to no-one in particular.

“Into Thorin, hopefully,” Bofur said with a big smirk. That earned him a kick in the shoulder from Bilbo. “Ow! You know, for a fluffy ball of cuteness, you have a pretty nasty right hook. Ow!” That was Bilbo hitting his shoulder again. “Call me that ever again and I'll right-hook your tiny, little -” But they would never know what tiny little part of Bofur Bilbo would right-hook, for suddenly the telephone rang.

“Bilbo Baggins here... Ah! Hello there! … Oh. Oh? … But he must have had a good reason? ... I see. ... I don't know, but I'll let you know as soon as possible. … I'll tell him. … Okay. Good luck. Bye.”

“Who was that?” Bofur asked. Bilbo kept staring at the telephone for a moment, looking confused, and slowly turned to Bofur. He looked at him, reproaching.

“That was Dwalin.”

Bofur stiffened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be on soon, I hope. Another thing I hope is that you liked this one. Let me know what you think of it! ^^  
> Take care xxx


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Here's another chapter :) It's a bit longer than normal bc I had a sudden wave of inspiration ^^ I hope y'all enjoy it!

 “That was Dwalin.” Bofur stiffened.

“He was quite upset, actually. Apparently, you left his house this morning before he even woke up. Please tell me you have a very good reason for this.”

Bofur kept silent, looking at the floor as though he wanted to sink right through it and never come out again.

“Bofur, what the fuck? What is your deal? You don't just... just leave people like that, like he was a bad one-night stand! I covered for you because I wanted to give you a chance of explaining yourself, but if nothing good comes out of that mouth anytime soon, I'll call him back to say that you fled here and that he can come here to give you a firm knock on the head. I ask you once more, Bofur, why did you do this?”

“I... looking back, it was stupid. To be honest, I didn't think he'd remember...”

“Why wouldn't he remember sleeping with you?” Bilbo exclaimed.

“Because we were drunk as hell, Bilbo! Don't you remember I told you we'd go clubbing yesterday? Well, we did, obviously, and... I guess we both just needed the courage of some drinks to... you know. Come out with it. But a few became quite some, and quite some became a lot. And well, once we were totally wasted, one thing led to another and I went home with him... I don't even remember anything after that, just that I went home with him, and this morning I woke up with a giant headache as well as a buttache next to him. So it was quite obvious what had happened. Looking back now, I was a coward for sneaking out like that. But at the moment, it seemed like the only option I had. I mean, we were totally wasted, and I didn't want to lose his friendship over this because come on, I have no clue if he even likes me the way I like him! He was still asleep so I gathered my things as quietly as I could and sneaked out. I'm surprised he even remembers anything of last night, he'd drunk about twice as much as I had. Damn, that guy can hold his liquor! Well anyway, that's how it went. You can hit me now. I more than deserve it.”

“Wow. That's quite the turn of events you got there. Would you like some tea?”

“I'd rather have a cup of coffee, if that's okay with you. Pretending to be my usual merry me cost more energy than I'd expected.”

 

A while later, they were both sipping from their steaming mugs in silence, until Bilbo broke it: “You know you'll have to face him sometime soon, don't you?”

“Yes. I know that all too well. Damn, how could I have been so stupid?”

“Well, it's happened now. And although I wouldn't have done it myself, I do understand it. You freaked out. Happens to the best of us.”

“Thank you Bilbo. For the coffee, and for covering for me. And for listening to me. You're a good friend. And now I must be a good person as well and go to Dwalin, however much the mere idea gives me the goosebumps.”

“Good luck.”

 

After Bofur had left, Bilbo had much to think about. He was in love with Thorin! How could he be so foolish? But then again, how could he not have fallen for him, with Thorin sitting on his bedside for weeks, being that perfect, with his gorgeous face and... _“No!”_ Bilbo chided himself. He couldn't dwell on that. It would just break him apart. It was better not to think of him at all anymore.

But that was easier said than done. He thought of Thorin while baking his beloved seed-cakes, he thought of him while making his bed, he thought of him while reading a book. He just couldn't keep his thoughts from straying there. Eventually, he just gave up trying at all. It just didn't work. If anything, it only made it worse. So he curled up on the softest sofa with a cup of freshly made tea and allowed himself to figure out exactly what was happening in his brain.

Sure, he was in love, he knew that now, but how much in love was he exactly? Was it just a crush that would be over in a few weeks, or was it worse than that and would it linger on and on in his thoughts? He felt in his heart that it was more than some random crush. The way his stomach lurched every time he looked at Thorin, the way he felt the blood rise to his cheeks, the way he felt when he made Thorin blush or laugh... no, he wouldn't be rid of that feeling easily. And it would take a lot of effort to suppress them. Maybe he should listen to Bofur and at least try. He was right; it wasn't like Bilbo to just give up before he had even tried. But then again, was it wise to listen to Bofur's love advice after what he had just done to Dwalin?

He heaved a big sigh and lifted his teacup to his lips, only to find it empty. When had that happened? He got up to put the cup in the dishwasher. Then he suddenly got the urge to clean the whole room. It felt dusty, which of course it was, but it wasn't just the dust that made the room feel dusty. Whatever it was, it didn't matter, only that the room needed cleaning, and it needed cleaning _now_. So Bilbo took a bucket and filled it with hot water and soap and got to it.

 

\--

 

A few hours later, Bilbo felt less tired in his mind, but more tired in his limbs. It was much better like this, though. He was glad to have traded the two. And he couldn't complain about the result, either: he had dusted, he had scrubbed, he had vacuum cleaned, he had mopped and he had washed. So although his body now was dirty, the room (and a few adjescent ones, as well) shone again like they were brand new.

Bilbo hopped under a cold shower to wash off the grease, dust and sweat, and got into his bathrobe, feeling too lazy as well as tired to bother with clothes anymore. It might have revealed a little bit too much of his chest, being too small for some years already, but it was damn soft and hey, who was there to judge him? Just his reflection in the mirror, and he didn't really care about his opinion. So he stuck out his tongue to that guy and walked to to the living room to stoke the fire up and crawl on the sofa to continue his book. But then he realized he hadn't cooked dinner yet. And when he had realized that, he realized that he had had neither second breakfast nor lunch nor supper yet! Now that he thought about it, he did feel quite light-headed. He had only drunk lots and lots of tea! Well, he couldn't have that. To the kitchen it was, then.

 

A while later, the scent of baked potatoes and roast chicken had filled the air of Bag-End. Contentedly, Bilbo decked the table, sat down and was about to stuff his mouth full with chicken and broccoli, when the doorbell rang. Unpleased is a very, very shortcoming word to describe Bilbo's temper when he heard that sound. With a sigh he got up. “Whatever does one have to do to get a little bit of peace and quiet to eat his meal these days?” he wondered aloud and got to opening the door. He was neither expecting nor prepared, however, for what he found on the other side of it.

It was Thorin. It took a lot of effort on Bilbo's side to keep standing on both his legs and not collapse like a puppet cut loose from its strings. It was worse than ever, for now he knew how much Thorin actually meant to him. God, it made everything so much worse. Thorin's gaze seemed to go from Bilbo's eyes through his brain straight to his stomach, where it made his insides crawl and Bilbo felt a bit sick at the thought that he had just been about to eat, while he was certain right now that he would throw up if he even so much as smelt food.

Then Thorin's gaze dropped from Bilbo's eyes. Relief washed over him, but only for too short a period. Thorin might not be looking him in the eye anymore, but he was looking at a point below Bilbo's face. He became painfully aware of the robe that expanded an inappropriate amount of chest. He bit his lip and was surprised to find himself saying: “Thorin! Hey! I... didn't expect you to drop by so soon again.” That seemed to snap Thorin out of staring at his collarbones and the gaze returned to Bilbo's eyes. It was a bit better, if still very uncomfortable for poor Bilbo.

“Bilbo. Hey. I, um... I... I can come by later, if it's not a good moment right now?” Thorin asked.

Bilbo hesitated; on one hand, he just wanted Thorin as far as possible away from him, and yet he knew he could never be close enough. But he also knew that he just wasn't able to say no to those deep blue eyes, looking at Bilbo, almost begging to come inside. Or was that just Bilbo's imagination? It was hard to tell anymore.

“Um, sure, no, it's okay. Please, do come in. I was just about to have dinner, do you want some as well?”

“No thank you, I've already eaten.”

“That's okay. Something to drink then? Here, let me take your coat.”

“Well, I guess a beer couldn't hurt.”

“Coming right up. Make yourself at home.”

Before Thorin could say anything back, Bilbo fled to the cellar. He sat down on the bottom of the stairs for a moment, trying to calm himself down. When he had, more or less, he grabbed a few beers and went back to the kitchen.

“Here you are,” he said, and sat back down at the table, Thorin facing him. “How was your day?” Bilbo asked.

“It was fine. Same as it always is. Bit lonely.”

“How was it more lonely than other days, then? Mostly, people don't really talk to the delivery boy, do they?”

“It wasn't that. It was... I don't know. I guess it's just one of those days. So how was yours?”

Bilbo smiled at him. “I'm going to pretend I didn't notice you changing the subject, okay?” he chuckled. Thorin looked annoyed, mostly. “My day was fine. Did some cleaning. Helped Bofur out of a situation. I hope he managed to solve it, by the way. He was quite out of sorts.”

“Oh yeah?” Thorin asked, interested. “What was the matter?”

“I... I'm not really supposed to tell. It's quite personal. Sorry.”

“No, it's okay. I understand. I wouldn't want my friends blabbing my darkest secrets, either,” he said with a smirk.

“Dark secrets? You? Please, do tell!”

“Change of subject.”

“Pleeeeease?”

“So, do you have plans for the weekend?” Thorin asked.

“Wow, Thorin, are you asking me out?” Bilbo asked with a mischievous grin.

“I was _changing the subject_.” Thorin said grimly, but with satisfaction, Bilbo saw a blush spreading over his cheeks. He laughed at Thorins's frown, but then he got serious again.

“Why were you lonely though? Didn't you visit Dís today?”

“I did. She wouldn't stop picking on me, though.”

Bilbo laughed. “What about? Surely it can't have been that bad?”

“You don't know my sister. And that's not for you to know. I know you, you'll start as well. I'll have to unfriend you.” Bilbo laughed again. _“Again? Damn it, I'm being way too obvious. Stop laughing at everything he says, Bilbo Baggins!”_

“Not that I want you gone, but how long are you planning on staying here?” Bilbo asked.

“Oh, I don't know, as long as you'll have me,” Thorin responded.

“Then I'm afraid you'll have to leave now, sir,” Bilbo said. Thorin grinned.

“No, it's okay,” Bilbo said. “We can watch a movie?”

“Sure. Which one?”

“Umm, I don't know. Let me just do the dishes first, and then we can decide later.” He tried to get up, but while doing so, he suddenly felt very light-headed. Assuming it would go over in a bit, he walked in the direction of the counter, but suddenly his vision went all fuzzy and he became very dizzy. Next thing he knew, he was lying in Thorin's arms, his head only inches from the floor.

“What... What just happened?” he asked.

“You fainted,” Thorin said. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I... I feel fine now.”

“You don't look the part. You're all hot and sweaty. You must have a fever.”

“ _Damn it. That's not a fever. Well, I can hardly tell him it's because he is basically all around me right now, can I?”_

“Um, yeah, that must be it,” Bilbo said. “Um, I should... probably lay down for a bit...” he tried to detach himself from Thorin's limbs, which seemed to be everywhere, but failed. Instead, the limbs only tightened around him and lifted him from the floor.

“Thorin, I can walk myself, thank you very much!” he said, alarmed.

“Oh yeah? Last time I checked, you fainted dead on the floor and would've hit your head if I hadn't caught you in time.”

“Please, just put me down. I'm sure I can walk again!”

“Not happening,” was the only response he got. He sighed. He knew Thorin would not change his mind. Talking to him would be like asking a dragon to 'kindly leave his hoard and kill himself, please'.

A moment later, Thorin laid Bilbo down on his couch, threw a blanket over him and knelt beside him. “You do too much. The doctor told you to rest, not clean the whole house in one day!”

“It was only a few rooms! And I felt perfectly fine afterwards!”

“Apart from fainting, you mean? Also, you need a new bathrobe. This one doesn't do much for warmth.”

“It does much for other things,” Bilbo joked.

“When you're on your own? Sure thing, Bilbo. Just stay here, I'll do the dishes.” And before Bilbo could protest, he walked away, leaving Bilbo feeling more fucked up than ever. Was Thorin mad at him? Or just concerned? Who could tell? Not Bilbo. He saw meaning in all kinds of things that were as meaningless as his grandmother's doilies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, that's Thorin again... he gave poor Bilbo quite a fright, didn't he? I should talk to him about that. Sternly. Well anyway, they'll probably watch the movie in the next chapter, so that's something, right? Right? I can't even tell anymore. We'll see where it goes ;)  
> I hope you all enjoyed it, and thank everybody for the kudos and reactions, it really makes my day when I see that people actually read my work, even though I know I'm not the best writer ^^  
> Well, take care! The next chapter might take some more time bc I have a test week coming up, but I'll try not to make you wait too long! Bye for now xxx


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I didn't expect it to take so long, and I'm sorry, but I'm in the middle of exam year, so I partly was too busy and I partly forget... so sorry again, but I have finished it now :)

Within minutes, Thorin had washed up the dishes and walked back into the living room. He was scowling more than his average scowling, but more out of concern than anger, Bilbo thought. “Are you feeling any better already?” Thorin asked.

“I think so. It's nice to lie down for a bit. And thanks, by the way.”

“It was my pleasure,” Thorin responded with a slight smirk that made Bilbo flush down to his toes. “Are we still going to watch a movie?”

“Sure,” Bilbo said. “I don't have many DVD's, though. Just some really old ones.”

“Don't worry. I have a Netflix account. We could connect your laptop to your tv?”

“Sure. It's in the study.” Thorin walked away, leaving Bilbo to wonder about how smoothly Thorin had just asked him to Netflix&chill. Was this even to be considered Netflix&chill or was it just, you know, both Netflix and chill? His pondering didn't get further than that, though, for Thorin had already returned with Bilbo's laptop. He connected it to the tv and after arguing with the remote for a bit he managed to get the laptop screen displayed on the tv's.

“Okay, let's see what we've got. What kind of movies do you like?”

“Harry Potter.”

Thorin huffed a laugh. “Is that a genre these days?”

“For me, it is,” Bilbo shrugged. “So, what will it be, boy? Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Harry Potter and the-”

“Bilbo. You don't have to name all of the Harry Potter movies. I know them.”

“But do you know them like I know them?”

Thorin squinted at Bilbo, like he was trying to look through his skull and straight into his thoughts. Bilbo suddenly got very uncomfortable and wouldn't be surprised if Thorin actually succeeded in it.

“Only one way to find out,” Thorin said.

And that's how they ended up in a 19-hour marathon. About halfway into the first movie, Bilbo's head had landed on Thorin's lap somehow, who was now sitting beside (or under) Bilbo on the couch. Bilbo didn't even remember how he had ended up there (neither Thorin nor his head). It felt right somehow in a way he couldn't explain, but to Bilbo's tastes it also was a bit too close to a certain part of Thorin to ever be comfortable. He also felt Thorins hands fiddling with his curls absent-mindedly, making the uneasy feeling (now spreading to crotch-area) even worse. Bilbo's mind would never be drawn away from any television while Harry Potter was on it, but Thorin was making it really difficult for him.

 

He woke up to the feeling of something touching his back. He jolted awake and realized it was his bed. And Thorin was next to him. “Thorin? What are you doing?”

“Laying you in bed.” Bilbo's look must have spoken volumes, because he quickly added, with a smirk: “Don't worry. I wasn't going to _slither in_.”

Bilbo, tired as he was and not really paying attention to himself, made a disappointed sound. Upon hearing himself, he did, though, but he couldn't draw back the sound he had made back into his throat and could do nothing but lie there, horrified. Thorin, not able to see Bilbo's expression in the dark, just arched an eyebrow. “Unless... you wouldn't mind if I did?”

Bilbo couldn't remember ever being so hot as he was now. He was lucky it was dark, for the interesting shade of red he was right now would probably have made Thorin think twice about this. “I... I..” Bilbo couldn't get anything else out, didn't even remember how he was supposed to form the words anymore.

Thorin suddenly drew back, his expression unreadable. “I... I'm sorry. I wasn't... I'm not... good night.” He turned to leave, but Bilbo was finally able to speak again. “Thorin, wait. I don't want this to be... just for fun. The truth is... I think I'm in love with you.” The words had rolled over his tongue and out of his mouth before he could stop them with his half-asleep brain. _“Dang it, that was never the plan! What is wrong with you, Bilbo Baggins?”_

Thorin turned back to him, clearly taken by surprise. “What did you just say?” he said. _“Goodbye, friendship,”_ Bilbo thought. “I... said I love Hugh. Hugh Grant. He's cool, I totally love him.” He didn't.

Thorin stared at Bilbo, flummoxed, then suddenly he burst out in laughter. Bilbo followed soon after that. When Thorin came to his senses enough to be able to talk again, he said: “Right, and I'm actually a king whose home was taken by a dragon.”

“Ooh, that explains that majestic vibe about you,” Bilbo said, but was shut up quickly by Thorin jumping on his bed and sliding next to him under the covers. Strong arms wrapped around him cozily and when the laughter had died down completely, Bilbo found himself drifting off faster than ever, wrapped in a warm cocoon of Thorin and blankets.

–-

Bilbo woke to the feeling of Thorin's arms still around him. Unlike a lot of stories, Bilbo instantly remembered that it was actually Thorin holding him close. A grin spread on his face and he didn't even try to hide it. When Bilbo turned around, he saw that Thorin was already awake. “Good morning, beautiful,” Bilbo said, making Thorin blush. How he loved it when he made Thorin blush. “Good morning Bilbo,” Thorin responded. “Did you sleep well?”

“Excellently, thank you. How about you?” Thorin said nothing, but made a contented humming sound and hugged Bilbo even closer, so Bilbo just assumed that he, too, had slept well.

“Bilbo?”

“Hmmm?”

“Will you scramble eggs again?”

“Only if I get a kiss first.” And that he got.

 

That afternoon, when Thorin had left to deliver pizza's once more, Bilbo decided to call Bofur again, for he hadn't heard of him since yesterday and he was also bored, not being allowed to clean anything anymore by Thorin. He dialed his number and waited for him to pick up.

“Hey, Bilbo,” he heard after a few beeps.

“Bofur! Hey!”

“I s'pose you want to know how it went with Dwalin?”

“You know me too well. And you had better start talking soon.”

“Heheh, I will do just that. But before I do that, I want you to guess where I am right now.”

“Home?”

“Nope.”

“At the bakery?”

“Nope.”

Then it dawned on Bilbo. “... Have I interrupted you and Dwalin doing a certain thing that involves wood?”

“Ten points to Bilbo! Goodbye laddie!” And before Bilbo could say 'dick', he hung up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was the journey of the pizza delivery boys :) if you have any loose ends or other things, feel free to ask :) take care and bye for now! xxx


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